The Blessing
by mugglemin
Summary: In the dead of night, someone is walking the corridors of the Ministry of Magic, searching for the blessing of an old friend and mentor. ADMM-related...definately a bit odd. WIP
1. Default Chapter

The Blessing: The Visitor

"Madam Dumbledore?"

The White lady in the painting looked up from her desk and peered out into the corridor of the Ministry of Magic. All outside her realm was dark and she could not make out her visitor, beyond the obvious fact that it was a woman.

"Yes?" She replied in a voice rich in cheerfulness. "What can I do for you at this late hour?"

"I have come to ask your blessing." said the visitor, remaining hidden in the shadows. "Forgive my coming so late. It is a private matter and I wished to speak with you alone."

The white lady waved her hand good-humouredly and smiled. She felt her memory stirred by the voice and was pleasantly reminded of times past. Youth, love, children…Albus.

"Not at all." She said kindly. "I am glad of the company. Now, what blessing do you require of an old druidess that cannot be granted by the living?"

The visitor sighed and shifted slightly. The White lady had in her turn provoked recollections of childhood and springtime rituals, maypoles and dancing; of two White elders laughing and singing in the sunshine, smiling together as if without care or concern. The auburn hair of the man contrasting sharply with the white of his and his wife's robes as they waltzed in fertile English fields.

Another sigh. The White lady's smile widened.

"Come, child. What is so difficult that you are troubled thus?"

"Madam Dumbledore." The visitor repeated her words slowly. "I ask your blessing for my marriage."

"There now!" Cried the White lady, clapping her hands together with glee. "What was so difficult about that?"

There was a pause.

"I have married your husband."

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**This is definately an odd one. Probably only one more chapter, and I doubt you'll be any less in the dark than you are now, but I'm going to post it anyway. Would love some feedback :)**


	2. Recognition

The Blessing: Recognition

"Minerva!" cried the White lady, standing and advancing to the very edge of her frame, as close to the visitor as it was possible for her to get without falling from her portrait. As if in understanding, the visitor stepped closer to the painting, and into the light. The image of Minerva McGonagall was greeted with a gasp. Stepping backwards and re-seating herself at her desk, the White lady took in the sight of the girl she had once known so well, now a woman and the second Madam Dumbledore. Minerva raised her eyes to her former friend and mentor, prepared for a tirade of oaths and accusations, yet not entirely certain that she would be chastised.

The White lady held her hand to her heaving chest as she steadied her breathing. When she had finally mastered her control, she turned to her successor. Minerva readied herself, sure in the knowledge that with this particular witch, nothing was certain.

"Minerva." The White lady began calmly. "Why have you come here to tell me this? Why not tell the portrait that hangs in the Headmaster's office?"

"Albus does not know that I have come to see you. Here, we are safe from prying eyes and I was not certain of your reaction. Besides, Albus tells me that you have not appeared in his office for some time."

The White lady chuckled. "No, I must confess I prefer it here, where it is more quiet. The incessant chattering of my predecessors can be somewhat trying at times. I tend to appear only when he calls for me."

Minerva felt herself distracted from her purpose as she settled into conversation with her old friend. The temptation to banter and to reminisce was great, but she needed to focus.

"He requires your presence more often than he dare ask for it." She said.

The White lady smiled.

"I think not. In recent years he has had no need, it seems."

Minerva's eyes dropped to the floor as she contemplated the meaning of the lady's words.

"He has had _much _need." she replied, a little forcefully, raising her eyes to her friend. "Many times, since he became Headmaster, I have found him looking to your portrait."

"He need only have called, Minerva. He knows that."

Minerva looked confused.

"But he didn't." She said softly. "Why not?"

The White lady's feelings for Minerva were implicit in her smile. She stood and moved to the foreground of the portrait, her arms outstretched in a pose that suggested she wanted to either hold or shake her companion.

"Because, Minerva," She answered "each time you found him looking to me, he turned to find _you _instead."

Minerva's gaze was fixed as she contemplated the truth behind the words. The lady retained her smile and motioned to Minerva to place her hands upon the canvas. Her look was kind and full of affection, reminding Minerva how much she had loved this woman as a child, and how much she loved her still.

"You cannot know how long I have waited to hear the news of your marriage to Albus" The White lady told her softly, as Minerva moved to place her hands against the painting.

Minerva frowned. "You expected it?" She asked, hesitating a moment.

The White lady seemed to look beyond Minerva as she remembered what she had seen.

"I did more than expect it." She replied. "I foretold it."

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**Thanks to all those who reviewed last time. Your comments were very useful! This fic has taken on a life of its own and seems to want to be a bit longer than first anticipated. It's proving tricky to write and I'm not very happy with it, so lots of feed back would be much appreciated!**

**The document manager is a pain in the quaffle, so the disclaimer is here: I borrowed Minerva, magic pictures, the Ministry of Magic and probably a few other things from JK Rowling. She can have them back when she wants.**


	3. The Vision

The Blessing: The Vision

I just had to move this story on, but I'm afraid that this chapter is terribly clumsy. But you know, when you're trying to banish your writer's bloc, you have to churn something out to get back into the swing! So my apologies for the low quality of the chapter, particularly the language used.

* * *

"Minerva!"

The voice was familiar. It was the voice of the Transfiguration master, the handsome, auburn-haired, younger man whose blue eyes pursued her daily as she entered the Great Hall for breakfast, lunch and dinner, who gazed at her from beneath his eyelids as he pretended to sleep through staff meetings, and who stared at her lustily across the chessboard every Thursday night. The same voice that had described feelings of intense emotion, caused by her presence and her smiles, for the first timeonly three days ago as they lay together in her bed, their passions finally sated, their bodies exhausted. That beautiful, soft voice that, over the past few months, had caused her to experience the most delightful sensations within her heart, her belly and more recently at her most intimate centre.

But Minerva was not her name, and the voice that called the name was not calling in greeting, anger or fear. It was the voice of love. _His _voice was calling the name over and over, each time seemingly more desperate than the last, more urgent. It was as if he had only one word with which to express his love and he feared the name would desert him along with its owner if he could not make her understand his true meaning.

The White Lady knew that what she was hearing was in her dream. She knew that to attempt to waken would be futile, for, being a gifted seer, she had had such experiences before. She fought hard to keep her eyes closed for the duration of the dream, so afraid was she of what she would see, but the vision proved to too strong and she was forced to witness the man she had come to love loving another.

She saw that this scene was in the distant future, for his hair was no longer auburn, but white. She saw that it took place in the very bedroom she now occupied - that of the Headmaster or Headmistress of Hogwarts. She saw that it was not just his voice that told how much he loved the woman who lay entwined with him, but his actions also. Actions so very different from the touches that the White Lady had received. The woman also touched him differently, as if every time her hand traced his skin their flesh melded into one. And her voice, the only time it broke his chanting of her name, bespoke a love to match that with which he showered her.

"Albus!"

The White Lady tried to avert her eyes from the bed. She looked around her and found a wedding bouquet on the dressing table, a pile of as yet unwrapped gifts on the chair and a newly framed photograph of the woman whose name she heard over and over arm in arm with another woman of about the same age.

She felt that fate was cruel to force her to witness her disappointment further. She felt that she had seen enough. Surely by now she knew enough to learn from her vision and to save herself. What purpose was there in remaining. And yet she could not wake. The mantra continued, and she turned back to the dressing table in an attempt to distract herself from the couple on the bed. She lifted the photograph and studied the woman in the picture who was not Minerva. Strangely familiar, the young woman waved at her and smiled expectantly, as if she knew the White Lady and had not seen her for some time. Her hair was auburn and her eyes blue. She was dressed in white, in the robes of a practising druidess, a druidess of high rank, it appeared too, judging by the cut of her dress and the ring on her finger. The very same ring that now adorned the White Lady's hand and marked the highest rank of Elder.

The Lady gasped.

"Am I to be usurped in everything!" She cried into the air. Her despair engulfed her as she considered the people who would occupy the positions she had held. No longer Headmistress, Elder or lover, she began to wonder what would become of her.

"Am I to die?" She called, as if she expected the fates to answer her.

Suddenly, the room disappeared and the vision changed. She could no longer hear her lover calling the name of another more beloved in a bedroom that had once been hers. Instead, she heard only a heartbeat and saw nothing but blackness. The vision changed again, and she heard the laughter of a child and looked to see the man she loved levitating a girl of three or four years old into the air so that she might fly like a bird. The girl had blue eyes and auburn hair. She opened her arms as if spreading her winds and begged her father to send her higher.

"No, no! Your Mama will be angry with me!" he replied, laughing, and then he turned to the White Lady and smiled and the vision changed again. This time the girl was older, and standing before her, smiling. She wore the uniform of Hogwarts, and her scarf showed that she had been sorted into Gryffindor.

The vision changed yet again, but struggle as she might, the White Lady could not clearly see the image of the girl, much older now and dressed in White, but so indistinct she almost doubted it was her. The figure wavered, as if she was viewing a reflection upon a rippling lake and the White lady raised her head as far as she could, while the girl crouched down towards her, as if she stood on the bank, and the White Lady stood under the water.

"I cannot see, I cannot see!" the Lady cried

"But you can hear me, Mama, can't you?"

And then there was nothing.

The White Lady woke up with a start as she realised how much of her own future she had seen. She was back in her own bed, still Headmistress of Hogwarts, the ring was still on her finger, and the mound beside her in the bed that was snoring lightly was undoubtedly still Albus Dumbledore.

She took a deep breath as she contemplated her next action. Officially, she was required to register her dream with the Unspeakables, but she was uncertain under whose name to register it. The dream had been about Albus as well as herself. And yet it contained information about him that did not concern her directly, as well as information that surely did. She looked over at him, lying on his side, his body lifting as he breathed. At that moment she made a decision. She would not register the vision at all. Instead, she would set in motion all the events that the fates had shown her would come to pass.

She shook Albus by the shoulder and told him to wake up. He looked surprised, but not annoyed, and he rolled over to rest on his elbow as he looked up at her, an expectant smile on his face. She couldn't help but smile back at him, but she quickly sobered as she remembered what she had to do. She looked him straight in the eye, took a deep breath, and made her move.

"Albus, will you marry me?"

He raised his eyebrows, but was quick to reply.

"Certainly." He said.

"Good."She took one more deep breath"Because I'm going to have your baby."

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I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry for the sloppiness of this chapter. Although there's a back-story to all this, I never really thought about the actual vision, so had to make it up here to get the story going. I really hate it, but it contains all of the information you need, and I just can't face trying to re-write it. I apologise. But hopefully, now I can move on with the rest of the story. Cringe.

I'm aware that I am AU on the Headmistress of Hogwarts thing. I mean for her to be Headmistress before Dippet, and I'm reasonably sure that we don't know who Dippet's predecessor was, so I feel justified in inventing the White Lady. I may or may not be able to fit it in to the rest of the story, but just to clarify why there is a portrait of the White Lady in the Ministry, where Minerva goes to see her: she will take up the post of Minister for Magic as Dippet fills her place as Headmaster. I'm probably very AU on this bit too but I plead artistic (snort!) license.

And all the stuff about Druids, I made up as I went along. I'm afraid I didn't even research it. Apologies to any Druids out there. I promise I shall do more research in later chapters, if necessary.

Oh it's all so awful! Please review. Feel free to flame!


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